


The Heron and The Dove (zine vers.)

by TRCelyne



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), White Heron Cup (Fire Emblem), Zine: Golden Dearest – A Claudeleth Zine (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27283231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TRCelyne/pseuds/TRCelyne
Summary: Jeralt hummed pensively and put down his cup. “What’s going on with him, child?”“Uh?”A smirk stretched his lips. “I noticed you’ve grown fond of him.”Byleth picked her cup, unfazed. “Have I?”“You smile more when he’s around, and you don’t smile often. That says a lot.”
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	The Heron and The Dove (zine vers.)

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my piece for Golden Dearest, a Claudeleth zine! It was my first time participating as a writer and not an artist, it was more difficult than expected because of the word limit which I... exploded let's say. So I'll post the full-full fic someday.

From what she had understood, it was one of Garreg Mach’s most important events, excluding the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion. And considering that most of the students of the academy were from nobility and ruling families, that was pretty self explanatory. Balls were not only for dancing, but also for socialising, creating bonds, and strengthening one’s relations and reputation. They were as strategically important as meetings and battles. What Byleth found odd but amusing was the White Heron Cup that was held on the same day. Some, like Leonie, didn’t care that much about it; for others like Hilda, it was a state affair. Claude, like herself, watched the whole thing from a distance but overall seemed entertained by the agitation. 

Although she felt a bit of an outsider when it came to that matter, that did not mean that she wasn’t going to take it lightly. A contest was a contest, and she was going to make sure her house won by a landslide. So, to stack all the odds in her favour, she needed someone elegant and who was fine being in the spotlight. And no one fitted the job more than Claude von Riegan.

\--

Did Claude need dance lessons? According to him, yes.  
According to Byleth, no.  
She didn’t have to be an expert at dancing to know that Claude was a natural at it. But she had a new excuse to spend time with him besides classes, battlefields and tea time, so she didn’t complain about it.

She had grown fond of him in time. When they had first met, she had been struck by his sharp mind and his composure. Then she had learned to pay attention to his features as they grew closer throughout the seasons. Claude, with his malicious smile and his twinkly green eyes, had quite the affect on her. Her heart might have beaten wildly at the sight of him if she had a beating heart in the first place.

Even though she was barely older than him, there was still one thing that prevented her from reaching him: she was his teacher and he was her student. So for now, she kept her feelings buried under her neutral expression and hoped for them to fade or to last long enough to be reciprocated.

\--

Every Sunday, Byleth and her father spent some time together for tea. Since they had settled down in Garreg Mach, she saw him less than she used to. Most of the time, she told him anecdotes about her students and he tried to give her advice.

“You chose Claude for the contest?” Jeralt said, his eyebrows raised.

Byleth shrugged. “You must admit he fits the job perfectly. He has charisma, and with the lessons, he’s improving even more.”

Her father hummed pensively and put down his cup. “What’s going on with him, child?”

“Uh?”

A smirk stretched his lips. “I noticed you’ve grown fond of him.”

She picked her cup, unfazed. “Have I?”

“You smile more when he’s around, and you don’t smile often. That says a lot.”

With that, Byleth remained silent, sipped her tea, and put her cup down.

Jeralt’s smile grew mischievous “Ah, I know that face. I’m right.”

Byleth sighed. “Dad, I’m a wall. What face are you talking about?”

The man winked at her. “You’re my daughter, I’ve learned to notice the slightest change in your attitude.”

“There… isn’t anything going on,” she said, looking down at her reflection in her beverage. “It’ll pass, eventually. I can hardly ever guess what he’s thinking about most of the time… Please don’t interfere with it.”

Her father chuckled. “I’d like to say he’s infatuated with you, but I’m rather dense when it comes to observing other people.”

Byleth’s lips twitched in an attempt at smirking. “And to think that deciphering my expressions helped you become more perceptive…”

Jeralt burst into laughter.

\--

The monastery’s infirmary smelled like thyme with a hint of lavender. Hilda had been wounded on the left arm during a battle, so Manuela had taken care of her as soon as they had got back to Garreg Mach and had kept her in for the night just in case. After her morning classes, Byleth had decided to go check on her student. She found her colleague busy changing the bandages on the teenager’s arm, who seemed to be fine.

“Hello Professor!” Hilda chirped.

“Good morning, Byleth,” Manuela said with a smile, before focusing back on her work “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to check on Hilda,” the young woman replied.

“As long as she doesn’t overdo it, she’ll be fine.” Manuela said.

“Overdoing is not part of my vocabulary, Professor.” Hilda countered, putting her free hand on her chest solemnly “I’m a calm and composed person.”

“And fervent devotee of the principle of minimum effort.” Byleth deadpanned.

“Anyway,” the older woman concluded as she finished her task. “No sparring for you this week.”

Hilda’s smile grew wider. “Great! Oh, by the way Professor Manuela, what will you be wearing for the ball?”

“I have an old dress that will perfectly do the trick.” She looked at Byleth. “What about you?”

She shrugged. “Nothing special. I’ll dress normally.”

Hilda gasped tragically while Manuela looked like she had just insulted her entire bloodline.

“You what?” They harrumphed in unison.

When Byleth shrugged again explaining that she was simply going to watch from afar, she was met with a comical level of drama. Hilda couldn’t understand, it was the best event of the year! On the other hand, Manuela was almost offended that she had considered going to a social gathering dressed casually. It was the best opportunity to be in all her finery! They insisted and prattled for a while, until Byleth gave in and agreed to try on some of Manuela’s dresses soon.

\--

By the time the contest arrived, Claude was more than ready. He literally waltzed his way into the classroom everyday, sometimes alone, sometimes with classmates – often Hilda who was more than delighted to play along, sometimes Lysithea who threatened him to obliterate him as she tried to struggle out of his arms like a cat. Although he was not originally interested in the contest, he still trained very seriously.  
Byleth also realized that his gaze lingered on her often while doing so, but she wasn’t sure it was true or if it was just her imagining things.

When Byleth checked her reflection in the mirror of Manuela’s room, she was not sure what to think. She spun left and right, watching the skirt of her halterneck dress following with her moves. It was black, with a plunging neckline that stopped at her stomach. A green belt was tied around her waist, the rest of the material falling on her left hip in a loose bow. The skirt was floor-length and had a long slit until the middle of her thigh. The dress was covered in ivy embroidered with golden threads on the skirt.

“What do you think?” Manuela asked.

“It looks nice.” Byleth admitted.

Manuela was wearing a white draped dress with a black and golden stole on her shoulders. Byleth held the front part of her dress so she would not accidentally step on it as the two went to the ball together. The air was cold as they crossed the monastery to enter the reception hall, from which they could already hear music. Byleth was soon overwhelmed with lights and sounds when they walked in; all the students of the academy had gathered there, the richest wearing ornate garments and beautiful jewellery, the commoners making do with their Sunday best. There was a large buffet along one of the walls, covered in all sorts of food and beverages from all around Fódlan, Brigid, and even Almyra. She recognised some of her students among the crowd, as well as her father chatting with Alois in a corner of the room. She was not used to seeing so many people in such a closed space at once.

“Ah! Professor!”

Byleth turned around and spotted Hilda walking towards her, in a pink dress with a wide, flowy skirt. Her shoulders were showing, bringing out the garnet pendant sitting on her neck. She had let down her hair, for once. She was dragging someone behind her, and it was only then Byleth found herself face to face with Claude that she realised that Hilda had brought the house leader along.

And by the goddess was he breathtaking.

He was wearing the house’s colors, as usual. He had tried his best to slick his hair back and traded his hoop earring for a thread earring. Golden threads were making curls on his yellow and black redingote. His eyes travelled from her lips to her waist to her legs, and then back to her eyes. If his expression remained composed, the look in his eyes sent a shiver down her back.

“You look beautiful tonight, Teach,” he said matter-of-factly.

“So do you,” Byleth replied.

Fortunately, before an awkward silence stretched between them, Seteth interrupted the background noise with two loud claps of his hands. Rhea then made a short speech before making way for Alois so he could host the contest like he always did. When he called the houses’ representatives and Claude was about to pass through the crowd of students, Byleth caught his pinkie with her index finger, the gesture extremely intimate yet so minor it went unnoticed by the others.

“Good luck,” she said.

He nodded as his answer and left. As Byleth had expected, Dorothea and Mercedes were his opponents, but she had faith in him. And when they started dancing, she knew she had been right about choosing him. Claude danced like it was as innate as walking, each movement precise yet smooth and perfectly on rhythm with the music. He clearly caught everyone’s eye, outmatching the two young women without difficulty. Hilda made a comment, but Byleth didn’t really pay attention to it and only hummed.

When the music stopped, it felt like coming out of a trance. Applause rose in the room, and Alois had to clear his throat several times to get some silence. Shamir and Manuela, who were judges of the contest, easily agreed on the fact Claude’s performance was impressive. After a few sentences meant to draw out the suspense, Alois announced that his opinion matched his colleagues’, and thus that the Golden Deer House had won the White Heron Cup.

The evening went on smoothly afterwards. Claude was congratulated here and there while the others danced or ate. Byleth sought refuge near the buffet, leaning against a wall to observe the crowd without feeling too overwhelmed.

“Enjoying your evening?”

She looked at Claude, who was handing her a petit-four. She nodded and accepted the food.

“What about you?” Byleth replied.

“I am. I did not expect to win the cup, though. That was quite surprising.” He leaned against the wall, next to her. “But it’s all thanks to you.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. You did the training.”

“But you pushed me beyond my limits, and I’m thankful for that.” He leaned towards her, his voice low. “I also think you look magnificent tonight.”

Byleth discreetly fidgeted with the ribbon of her belt. “Do you?”

“I do. This dress suits you.”

She found the strength to look at him and even smiled a little “You look really handsome tonight as well. I’m not surprised that you won the contest, you charmed me with that dance.”

Oh no. She had gone too far. Claude didn’t say anything, so she dared a glance towards him. The young man was blushing, his lips parted as if his words had died in his throat. Byleth gobbled up her petit-four to hide her awkwardness.

“You… think so?” He finally muttered, then smiled shyly. “That’s very nice of you, Teach. But I think you might be exaggerating.”

“I’m not,” Byleth replied with feigned confidence.

“Let’s see who’s right then.”

Claude grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the middle of the room. She tried to protest, but the wink he gave her stifled the sentence before it came out. His hand felt warm in hers as he pulled her closer until their chests almost touched; his other hand rested between her bare shoulder blades and his scent suddenly overwhelmed her. When he took his first step in a way that indicated exactly where he wanted her to be, Byleth followed him. Although not being particularly good at it, she knew that having a partner who knew exactly how to lead a dance allowed her to not focus on where her feet had to go.

“Well then?” Claude said in a low voice.

“I don’t know how to dance, and yet I know exactly what to do,” Byleth replied, smiling playfully. “That means I’m right. Your skills are unmatched.”

He leaned closer, until she felt his warm breath beneath her ear. “Does that mean you’re still charmed?”

The innuendo combined with the tickling sensation his breath left on her skin made Byleth shiver. He lazily brushed his thumb along her spine as they danced, which did not help. She was supposed to not cause him any trouble, and yet there he was, toying with her feelings in front of the entire academy. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.

“You… shouldn’t do this,” Byleth commented, looking down. “People are going to get the wrong idea.”

He made her twirl before answering. “But what if it’s the way I want to treat you?” His smile faded. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“That’s the problem,” she replied softly, fidgeting with the collar of his redingote. “You’re not making me uncomfortable. I even…” the words came out of her mouth in a whisper. “…appreciate the attention.”

Claude smiled again, and was about to reply when Manuela interrupted him from the side of the dance floor. He bowed to Byleth, excusing himself, and followed the teacher. Byleth used the opportunity to slip out of the room to get some fresh air. She needed somewhere calm to think, and that ball was too noisy and bustling to do that. Her steps, resonating against the cold cobblestone, guided her towards the cathedral. She crossed the building and went in direction of the Goddess Tower. She rubbed her hands on her arms, cursing herself for forgetting to bring a coat, and leaned against the well to observe the tower.

“Well then.” Sothis’ voice echoed mockingly in her head. “Watching you being in denial that you actually like that boy makes me cringe. How about you get a move on?”

Byleth replied, but Sothis remained silent. It was already hard enough holding back. Getting a move on, like she said, was not so simple. Not when she was his mentor, and he was from a ruling family. They were too different… But she liked him. It was the hard and simple truth. Maybe… maybe she had to acknowledge these feelings instead of burying them under layers of denial. Should she… tell him? What for? Ask him to wait until he leaves the academy? Were his feelings even mutual? Byleth groaned and held her head in her hands. So much for getting some fresh air to clear her head.

Caught up in the storm going through her head, Byleth didn’t notice Claude getting closer, nor did she notice the deep breath he took to gather some courage, or how he crossed his fingers behind his back.


End file.
